


Grasp

by Ro_Nordmann



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, One Shot, Past Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22308436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ro_Nordmann/pseuds/Ro_Nordmann
Summary: She didn’t care. She was done with his denial and defense mechanisms of having meaningless sex with her. Furthermore, Jaime pretending it was fine to keep being friends for an eternity while her heart constricted within her chest and her conscience berated her weakness towards this human disaster she called her best friend.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister & Brienne of Tarth, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 14
Kudos: 84





	Grasp

* * *

His best friend was too tall, too mannish and yet her cunt was wet and gripping him so hard, Jaime feared it would take his cock and unman him. It be fitting, she’d take what was _hers_ … What was left of him. _Fuck_. His hands gripped her hips probably leaving handprints that would be greenish-blue tomorrow; keeping her in place and allowing him to fuck her harder. 

“So fucking wet, tight. Just right. Whatever fuck did you think you were going to find in that pussy-ass, whatever-his-name? He won’t let you ride him, risk being castrated by your magnificent cunt. Oh, fuck...Brienne.”

Just as she was about to come, without warning Jaime was emptying himself into her and not having the wherewithal to pull-out as he’d promised. 

“WHAT. THE. FUCK? Lannister! You fucking promised! Shit!”

She pushed him hard, making him fall on the floor hitting his head against the nightstand. Groaning in pain, he touched his forehead and looked at his fingers coated in his blood. _Dammit!_

“Are you trying to ruin my good looks, wench? Fucking seven hells! That stings, Brienne! Get me some gauze and antiseptic.”

Brienne stood over him, completely bare, with her nipples still strawberry red and ripe for the picking. He licked his lips, not even caring that it would only provoke her more. Her wet bush, dripping with their combined essences at eye level, beckoned his attention.

“Eyes up here, Lannister. This is the last time we do this. You don’t keep your word. Now I have to clean this mess up and find Yara. She’ll know what must be done to undo whatever this—was. You can’t be so selfish, Jaime. You’re my best friend, but we’re not together. You’re still pining over Cers and I just broke up with Tor. And for your information, I didn’t plan on fucking that pussy-ass bitch of Hunt. He was just playing along, like all of them trying to claim they’ve tame the Beast and licked the honey. It’s part of a dare for the recent pledges in _KL Delta Sigma_. If they could see you know, at my feet…” 

Brienne huffed in annoyance as his lack of response and kicked his leg to get to her clothes. She found her underwear, both the bra and panties had been torn by Jaime’s overeager hands. She dropped them on his head, as he whimpered when it hit him on his head. “Careful, wench. I’m injured here. Aren’t you concerned that you’ve concussed me? I could lose consciousness at any moment. You have to keep me awake and what better way than to keep doing what we were—”

She screamed, even with the music going on downstairs anyone would’ve heard her. She didn’t care. She was done with his denial and defense mechanisms of having meaningless sex with her. Furthermore, Jaime pretending it was fine to keep being friends for an eternity while her heart constricted within her chest and her conscience berated her weakness towards this human disaster she called her best friend.

His hand grabbed her ankle, halting her steps. “Brienne...I’m sorry. Please, don’t leave me. I fucked up and if you end up with my baby, I’ll marry you. We’ll be perfect together, aren’t we? Maybe this is what the gods and their fucking sense of justice intended for me to squirt one in you tonight and bind us? Let’s take a shower together, before the wolves descend—your Sansa and her gang—must’ve heard your hollering and will come to your rescue. But do you need rescuing, my wench? Do _you_?”

She dropped her shirt and jeans on the rumpled bed and pushed her hair from her face. “Jaime...fuck you. Fuck you. Do you understand? I can’t keep being your _knight_ . I love you. I’ve loved you since...so too fucking long. And yet _she_ gets to have your heart and if you have any sense of righteousness and respect you let me go now. I won’t wait anymore for you to _see_ me. You need to save yourself. Good-bye, Jaime.”

* * *

Brienne stared at her face with disgust. _You are ugly and unlovable. He will never see you as more than a friend, who lets him fuck her when he feels needy and alone, rejected by his perfect mirror of half-sister._ Her neck was covered in hickies, as she tried to wash her skin of his scent. The warm towel wiped off between her legs as the tears trailed her cheeks. A sob tried to come out of her lips and she bit hard, tasting blood. _Never again will you let yourself be used. You deserve more than this._

Feeling less dirty, she donned her wrinkled shirt and her jeans. Even if no one could see, she felt naked and exposed without her underwear. She opened the bathroom door and found her other best friend waiting for her. Sansa Stark smiled and opened her arms and Brienne simply collapsed in her embrace, “Did you let him know, Bri? Or do I have to junk-punch him once and for all?” Hiccuping she answered, “It’s over, Sansa.”

* * *

Two months later, Brienne found herself visiting her father in Tarth. It was spring break and she felt lighter with midterms done and the approval from Prof. Goodwin on her final project, she was set to graduate with honors by June. 

“Where is Jaime? I thought he’d be coming with you. Last two visits, the Lannister boy followed you around like a lost puppy. I was I would be obligated to adopt him. He lacks so much parental support and approval—”

Brienne grunted, “He is no longer my friend, Dad. We’ve parted ways. I’m sure he’s with his family in Lannisport.”

“You’re sure, _wench_? 

And there he was, Jaime Lannister, heir to Lannister Pharmaceuticals, Inc. His eyes crinkled on the sides, as he dazed her with his signature grin. He was here, in Tarth and he looked a bit thinner with scruff on his face and his hair a tad longer, ruffled by the salty breeze of the Sapphire Isle. 

Her father looked between them and guffawed, I’ll leave you two to work this—whatever it is out. You let me know when I should expect my first grandson or granddaughter.”

Brienne crossed her arms on her chest, already establishing a barrier between them, feeling betrayed by her father leaving her alone with Jaime. He sauntered over, getting closer, his eyes lingering on her face and chest, then focused on her belly. He looked suddenly disappointed.

“I thought I’d be able to tell your father that the first Lannister-Tarth generation was already on its way, but alas we’ll have to reconvene and begin anew in those efforts.”

She took a step back and he kept coming until he’d backed her against the glass wall, with a glorious view of the Narrow Sea. 

“You’ve runaway from me for the last time, Brienne. I’m here and I can certainly say this is where I’m meant to be. I’ve hit rock-bottom, seen some things I needed to face on my own. And you were right, I was ignoring you, letting you debase yourself, even if we both wanted each other so much. It wasn’t fair. It won’t happen again. For I see you. And you are my astonishing wench, who can fuck me anytime she wants. Oh, by the way, Sansa gave me her take on the whole thing...we’re good. Arya may have used the pointy-end to make it final. You have many friends that care and love you. You’re still my best friend and I love you. I love you, Brienne. I’m in love with you.” 

And right there, with the sea and salt air as witnesses, Jaime clasped her hips and kissed her mouth with a promise. “I love you, too. Jaime, I-I’m in love with you… You can _see_ me. ”

“Always, wench.”

_I love you_.

* * *


End file.
